Love the Way You Lie
by Natsu.Arisu
Summary: "They say...that you should live your life with no regrets. I don't believe that. I want to live my life full of regrets." "...Why?" He turned to him. "Because it keeps my mind busy."


**(A/N:) So the title is named so because I was strongly inspired by _Love the Way You Lie_ by Eminem feat. Rihanna. This idea just wouldn't leave my head. HOWEVER this fic is not linear with the song, and neither is it linear itself.**  
**Nonlinear plots are just so much more interesting.**  
**(I actually dislike rap. So that song is one of the few hip-hop/rap songs I can tolerate.)**

**This was a challenge for me to write, because I had the inspiration and ideas—I just didn't know how to put it all together.**

**I know I will probably get some complaints of this being confusing. It's supposed to be like that—it's nonlinear. You need to use what's written to infer and put them in what seems like the correct order and make it linear in your head. But to help you out: The beginning of this is the beginning of the end, everything in the middle is what happened in between (nonlinear manner), and the end of this is the end (nonlinear manner).**

**Ryo seems like a Chuck Palahniuk character to me in this. (I think I was practicing Palahniuk's writing tips.) I'm afraid that I _might_ have made Ryo contradict himself sometimes. I don't think I did, but I have a feeling I _might_ have. However since it's nonlinear and Ryo calls himself "insane" and "not normal," it's somewhat logical why he'd be like that (if I _did _make him contradict himself). So if you feel like he's contradicting himself, just remember his instability.**

**I had written this in pieces. I wrote parts in different sections as the ideas came to me, and tried to find ways to link them. In the end, I rearranged the sections and added what I needed to.**  
**It was like a puzzle.**

**Warnings: Sexual themes, a bit of a lemon; language; violence, abuse.**  
**This fic contains abusive!Bakura, which I have said I don't like (anymore) somewhere on the interwebz (a.k.a. on a meme on dA). HOWEVER, when reading this, you'll see that abusive!Bakura technically isn't abusive!Bakura. If that makes sense.**

* * *

"Where do you think you're going?"

He stopped midway in reaching for the doorknob of the front door. "…I'm leaving."

"Are you coming back?"

A moment of silence. "…No." It was better to be honest.

"What makes you think you can leave?" Crimson eyes narrowed themselves.

Another moment of silence. "…I thought you were asleep."

"You're bad at keeping quiet." A few steps forward.

Brown eyes turned away from the door to face him. He had been caught, and now there was no escape. The other had given him the warning last time.

His scrawny wrists were grabbed and he was pushed against the wall. He yelped in pain.

"You little bitch," the crimson-eyed one growled in his ear. "You fucking think you can get out of here? I told you before that you're never getting out." He pulled away from his ear and glared daggers into his eyes. A small smirk graced his lips. "Punishment is only suitable."

Fear. Pure, unadulterated fear was in his brown eyes as the crimson ones pierced into them. A hint of alcohol lingered in the crimson-eyed one's breath, as always.

"I…" the weaker one muttered.

"What?" Crimson eyes narrowed even more.

"…I hate you." It was out in the open.

Many moments of silence that evening, it seems. Words escaped the devilish one's mouth, "And I'm going to kill you."

Fear. Pure fear in the weaker one's eyes.

And it was all staged.

This was how it was supposed to work.

Bakura was the abuser, Ryo was the victim.

That's how it was in this story.

It just worked.

* * *

Ryo flinched as the door flew open. Bakura walked in, cursing and muttering incoherently. It was obvious he was home from the bar. He barely went anywhere else.

"Welcome home," the smaller boy said quietly.

"Where's dinner?" he slurred angrily.

"I-I haven't finished—"

"Fucking..." He grabbed Ryo by the collar of his shirt, lifting him up at least a couple inches above the ground. "When I come home, dinner is supposed to be done and on the table, you understand?" he growled.

Ryo weakly nodded, and Bakura threw him on the ground. Ryo cried in pain, and Bakura bent down to corner him.

"You're beautiful when you're afraid...," Bakura slurred with half-lidded eyes. His spidery fingers danced over the smaller one's chest, and made their way up to his neck. Ryo shivered as Bakura touched him. Bakura's hand wrapped around the boy's neck, as if to choke him. He only made a gentle squeeze before crashing his lips onto Ryo's. Ryo could not move. The hand wrapped around his neck was like a subtle warning to not resist.

_Resist, and I'll fucking choke you to death you little piece of shit._

He loved that warning, and hated Bakura for it. However, Ryo knew he would not die. Yet. So he didn't hate Bakura, after all.

Bakura slipped his tongue into Ryo's mouth, immediately gaining dominance. Ryo whined a little, feeling like he was going to suffocate because of Bakura never stopping to give him air. Torture, it was. Ryo was never very fond of the taste of alcohol either, and unfortunately for him, that was all that Bakura tasted like at the moment.

Bakura made a low growl, and his tongue went from Ryo's mouth to make a trail of saliva from his cheek, to his jawline, to the base of his neck. He proceeded to bite and suck at it.

_Ownership_. That's what he needed to show. Ryo was _his_.

Ryo was his victim, his lover.

Ryo was also the master.

But in their case, what was the difference, anyway?

* * *

"You're an angry drunk, I've noticed," Ryo blurted out in the middle of breakfast one morning.

"So?" Bakura chewed his cereal.

"I'm a little tired of having to fix the walls whenever you decide to punch right through them. I think I have a better idea, and I'm pretty sure you know what I'm talking about."

"…Our deal?"

"Well, what else would I be talking about?"

Bakura stared at him. "...Are you a masochist?"

"Maybe, I don't know. I'm not sane; I'm not normal—remember?"

"Normality doesn't exist."

"Be quiet and use your anger as an advantage for ourselves."

"You mean for yourself—?"

"I said be quiet."

* * *

Just another night for them.

"You know, I'm sure you're _much _more beautiful covered in red…" Bakura moved the knife, in one line, down across the boy's pale chest. Ryo could do nothing—his hands were bound to the headboard. His wrists were already red.

Fear in Ryo's eyes, malice in Bakura's.

As always.

Bakura breathed alcohol as he spoke, "You were with that boy…Malik, was it? You two were a little too friendly for my liking…"

"You...," Ryo started. Bakura looked up at him, seeming to let him go on. "You...punched him. I saw you two fighting. You were screaming...screaming at him to get away from me, because...because..."

Bakura leaned into the boy's face, finishing his sentence, "Because you are _mine_."

It was all staged.

Malik was just unaware of it—he was just an unlucky and unaware role in that particular part of the sob story.

* * *

"Are you alright, Ryo?"

Ryo looked up from his frozen yogurt. "W-what?"

"I asked if you were alright," Malik made a worried expression. "You were staring at your yogurt for the longest time just now."

"Huh? Oh, uh, s-sorry, I was just thinking about things," Ryo stammered. He quickly took a few bites of the yogurt to show Malik he was fine.

Malik wouldn't have it. "Are…things okay with you and Bakura?"

Ryo almost flinched. "Of course we're okay. What makes you think something's wrong?"

"I don't know, it's just that…lately you've been acting strange." Malik leaned forward a little in his seat.

Ryo gave him a reassuring smile. "Everything's fine, Malik."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

As if on cue, Bakura stepped into the shop.

* * *

Ryo screamed. He screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed. It was just too painful. Bakura didn't even properly prepare him.

Bakura only grunted and moaned as he rocked in and out of the boy. He was still in an alcoholic haze, but he was fully aware of what he was doing.

He knew this was what Ryo wanted.

Ryo screamed as a painful release ripped through his body. Painful release? Was that possible? He had holding back the entire time, until now. Bakura never touched him there. His erection was hurting previously, but it was finally released. It was practically painful at first, but pleasure soon washed over in the orgasmic haze.

Bakura wasn't done. Ryo was still in pain, but it was almost becoming numb at this point. Bakura was moving fast, not even bothering to give Ryo pleasure by hitting his prostate. He kept moving as if Ryo was a corpse and there would be no reaction if he hurt it too much.

Bakura finally let go. "F-Fuck, RYO!"

Ryo felt himself twitch as Bakura filled him up. That was the first time Bakura had cried out his name at a time like this.

Bakura collapsed onto the boy, breathing heavily. He eventually pulled himself out and rolled over next to him.

"...You weren't supposed to do that," Ryo muttered.

"Do what?" Bakura said in between pants.

"Say my name. You aren't supposed to make it sound like—"

"Like we're a couple?" Bakura finished.

Ryo remained quiet for a few seconds. "...Yes."

"But aren't we?" Bakura turned on his side to face Ryo properly. Ryo remained on his back, with only his head turned.

"...No."

Bakura pursed his lips. "Then...what are—"

"We're simply partners—partners with benefits."

"Isn't the phrase, 'friends with benefits'?"

"In this case, no," Ryo said without hesitation. "We can't be friends…or a couple under the circumstances we preset."

"You mean the circumstances _you_ preset?"

Ryo turned on his side to face the opposite way. "Shut up and go to sleep."

* * *

Bakura was simply a puppet in Ryo's sob story. Not necessarily a pawn, because Bakura was not weak. He was a puppet that received vague instructions from its master, then was left on his own to put these instructions into play in his own way.

The puppet received no instruction from his master today.

Ryo had left to buy groceries, and hadn't told Bakura anything other than that. Therefore, Bakura didn't know what Ryo wanted him to do. Ryo had told him that the knife play was getting a little old recently, so he didn't want to bore him.

His thoughts were interrupted by Ryo bursting into the house.

"Ryo, what's—?" Bakura was knocked down by Ryo jumping on him and pinning him down. Ryo was panting, and he was sweating. Bakura's eyes widened. "Ryo, are you oka—?"

"B-Bakura...Nnnn," Ryo moaned. His eyes were half-lidded.

Bakura's eyes went wider. "Did...something happen at the grocery store?"

Ryo moaned, and he had a pained expression on his face. His eyes shut. "B-Bakura, I...I was just, I don't know, I—"

Bakura grabbed Ryo's face with both hands. "Just tell me what happened."

Ryo made a small noise of satisfaction and rubbed his cheek against one of Bakura's hands. Bakura raised an eyebrow.

"I...I don't know, Bakura, I just started imagining things out of nowhere, a-and, I don't know—oh, god..." Bakura's eyes widened as Ryo started to grind himself against Bakura. "Bakura...ah, please..."

Bakura was dumbstruck for a moment. "What...what do you want me to do?"

Ryo stopped and looked at him, and said almost angrily, "What the fuck do you think?"

Bakura winced a little. "No, I mean...Is there something specific you want me to...?" he trailed off.

Ryo blinked and stared at him. Beads of sweat continued to roll of on the sides of his forehead. His eyes softened as he leaned into Bakura's face and kissed him for a few seconds. He then moved his mouth to his ear, "Just...love me. Love me this one time. You're allowed to."

Bakura twitched a little at this. Love him? He...He didn't know what to do or say. This wasn't a part of the deal…was it?

"I...I don't understand—"

"You don't have to," Ryo straightened up and peeled off his jacket slowly, his eyes never leaving Bakura's. "Just...go with the flow." He pulled off his own shirt, then reached down to pull off Bakura's. Their bare skin came in contact, and they were both on fire.

* * *

"You give me what I want, and I'll give you what you want."

Bakura raised an eyebrow. "What is it you want? And how do you know what _I _want?"

"It's simple, and obvious." Ryo paused for a moment. "Do whatever you want with me. Hit me, cut me, yell at me, curse me, fuck me—whatever you want."

"Is that what _you _want?"

"Yes."

Bakura looked at him a bit suspiciously. "Then what is it that you believe I want?"

Ryo stared at him. "My reaction. My fear. My dread. My screams. My moans of pain. My whines. My sobs. _Everything_."

He made a puzzled expression. "But you _want_ me to do those things to you. How can you react in those ways?"

"Simple," Ryo said. "I want to do what I know I will sob and complain about later. If you do your part well enough, then it shouldn't be hard." He purses his lips. "I want something to look back on and say, 'Shit, why did I let him do that to me? I'm pathetic. I've been reduced to this piece of shit.'" Ryo paused again. "I know you want this, you sadist. You need _something _to take your anger out on."

Bakura raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think I need to take my anger out on something?"

"Just seems like it, considering what you've gone through."

"…How much of my past do you know about?"

"Everything. Or at least enough." A pause. "I also know that you could use a little love in your life. Just a little."

Bakura scoffed. "You're kidding, right?"

"I'm not kidding." He stared at him. He bored holes into his eyes.

"Why the fuck would I want something as trivial as _love_?" Bakura narrowed his eyes, as if he were insulted.

"Maybe you don't want it, but you need it. It only seems logical, considering you lost your entire family." Ryo shrugged at this point, as if this were only a matter-of-fact situation of some sort.

Bakura was quiet for a moment before murmuring, "...Why do you always see through me?"

"Because we're too much alike." Ryo always had an answer.

* * *

Ryo needed to hide them somehow.

He looked for a shirt suitable enough. It had to have long sleeves, and it couldn't be white. They would most likely show through white.

He finally found his grey long-sleeved shirt. He groaned in frustration when he realized it wouldn't cover up the bruises on his neck.

Whatever, he thought. He could always rearrange his hair in a way that would cover it up.

Bakura watched him from the doorway, and Ryo did not notice him.

* * *

"…Why do you let me do this to you?" Bakura spoke, when he was out of his alcoholic state.

"Do what?" Ryo said expressionlessly.

"Why do you want me to torture you so much?"

"I already told you why."

"I know, but…it obviously gives you a hard time in life—everyday. So why?"

Ryo was silent. He stared at the ceiling, as if he were musing over his answer. After a minute or two, he finally spoke.

"They say…that you should live your life with no regrets. I don't believe that. I want to live my life full of regrets."

"…Why?"

He turned to him. "Because it keeps my mind busy."

Bakura remained silent.

Ryo continued, talking to the ceiling. "All my life, there has never been someone there for me—someone to share happiness or sadness with. There was no one in my life. No one to think about, no one to share my thoughts with. So I thought, why not do anything and everything I'll regret? I have nothing to lose. I have nothing to live for. Getting involved with these regrets will get me involved with other people. I'm not stable, I'm not sane. This is a fact. Why not put these faults to use? I'm insane. I'm not like others. I'm not _normal_. I _chose _to live my life full of regrets because I wanted to. I am selfish, because I wanted this completely imperfect life for myself. I wanted a life where I cannot correct my errors, and can always sulk and complain and bitch about all the wrongdoings I have done. It gives me something to think about; it gives me something to talk about. And I made myself this life—because I am spoiled. I am spoiled because I am human."

Ryo paused his monologue to look at Bakura again. "You help me with this. You help me create my regrets and sob story of a life." He paused again, as if to make the next line more dramatic. "You, Bakura, are my ultimate regret."

Bakura stared back at him. "And by ultimate, the meaning you intend to use is…"

"Both meanings," he answered. "You are my most important _and_ last regret."

* * *

"Where are you going?" Ryo froze in his tracks. He was caught.

"...I'm leaving."

Bakura grabbed him by the back of his shirt. "Fuck no, you're not." He threw him on the couch. Ryo cried out as Bakura pinned him down. "You're not fucking leaving me. We had a deal," Bakura growled. He was drunk. If he wasn't, he wouldn't be this angry.

He'd probably let Ryo leave if he wasn't drunk.

"Bakura, I'm...I'm tired of this. I want to go—"

"NO!" Bakura yelled, and his hand slapped Ryo harshly across the face. Ryo stared up at Bakura, tears forming in his eyes.

Bakura knew in the back of his mind what this really was.

A test.

A test to see if he was truly willing to give Ryo what he wanted.

And Bakura would not fail. Ryo knew he wouldn't want to fail. He had had too many other failures in his past life. This was not an acceptable failure, especially when it was such an easy task.

Bakura bit down on Ryo's shoulder, lapping up the blood he drew. He whispered cruelly in Ryo's ear, "Punishment is only suitable for trying to escape. You know you can't escape from here."

Ryo only whimpered and accepted his fate.

_It was all staged._

* * *

"I know I'm going to get sick of this again at some point or another...," Ryo looked up from his bowl of cereal to look at Bakura in the eye, "...so if I try to leave for a second time, I want you to kill me."

Bakura dropped his spoon. "...What?"

"I said—"

"I know what you said," Bakura interrupted. "I just...Ryo, why—?"

"Do not fail me, Bakura." Ryo said with a hardened voice.

Bakura kept silent.

* * *

"It's a little silly, don't you think?" This was their way of pillow talk.

"What is?" Ryo turned his head to face Bakura. This was another one of the few times Bakura would be snapped out of his alcoholic state.

Bakura continued to stare at the ceiling. "This whole thing—it's a little silly. We both know that the only reason I'm giving you so much pain is because I'm 'supposed' to. And the only reason you act like you're afraid and you're a total victim is because you're 'supposed' to."

"So what makes it silly?" Ryo questioned.

"It's...It's like a roleplay, or something."

Ryo remained quiet for a few moments, thinking of a response. "...Then think of it as one of my TRPG scenarios."

"What?" Bakura raised an eyebrow.

"I write these scenarios, or rather, I tell you how the scenario should go. We each have a role to play to fufill our wants."

"But...what if I don't want this?" Bakura sat up, his elbows supporting him. "What if I don't _really_ want this?"

Ryo stared at him. "Well...," he started, "...maybe you might not want it...," he placed a hand on Bakura's hand, "...but you definitely _need_ it."

Bakura mused. "So...is this a game, too?"

Ryo was quiet before answering, "Yes, in a way, it is."

Bakura remained silent, staring at Ryo's hand on his.

* * *

"You may think of this as part two of your punishment for trying to leave," Bakura licked the blade of the knife in his hand. He pressed the flat part of the knife against Ryo's neck. "If you try to leave again, I'll kill you, you little son of a bitch. Understand?"

Ryo nodded weakly. Bakura grinned maliciously and brought the knife down to rip the boy's clothes to pieces.

It was all in the game; all part of the sob story.

* * *

"Tell me, Bakura."

Pillow talk.

"What?" he was breathing heavily.

"When you play your part, do you believe yourself to be what you are in that part?"

Bakura was quiet. "…I'm confused."

"I mean…," Ryo trailed off to turn and face him. "When you hold your end of the deal and abuse me, do you really believe you are an abuser? And do you really believe I am a victim?"

Bakura was still confused. "Are you talking about when we're in the moment, or outside of it?"

"Both."

Bakura pursed his lips. "…I don't know."

"Think about it."

Bakura blinked at Ryo. His gaze turned up to the ceiling, and he was silent for the next few minutes.

He finally responded, "I think…I only believe I am holding my end of the deal. Outside of it I just…'prepare' myself for the part by listening—listening to what you want."

A moment of stillness. "…Wrong answer."

"What?" he looked at Ryo.

Ryo looked back at him and spoke softly yet intensely. "I want you to believe you are the abuser, inside and out. Release all your hatred and anger onto me. I want you to do whatever _you _want, however you're feeling. Ignore me. Ignore what I want, because I'm sure that whatever you want will turn into what I want by itself." Ryo climbed onto Bakura. "Do it. Right now."

Bakura looked up at Ryo in disbelief. "I…"

"Just do it."

"But—"

"Then you can kill me tomorrow when I try to leave."

* * *

There was definitely no escaping.

Ryo smiled, and tears fell from his eyes and rolled to the sides of his face since he was laying face-up.

"I'm so happy, Bakura," he said quietly.

But he knew Bakura wasn't in the room. He had left a while ago.

"You didn't fail me. I'm so happy," Ryo sighed contentedly. The chains of the handcuffs jingled quietly.

This was his punishment for trying to leave a second time. Ryo was just happy Bakura listened to him.

"I hope you know I don't really hate you. It was just for the game, you know? I hope you know. Besides, how could I hate you? You followed through. You did what I told you to. You made my life the sob story I wanted." Ryo made a weak chuckle. "Maybe you wanted to make my life a living hell, too. Maybe we got what we both truly wanted."

The room was already filled with smoke. Ryo was inhaling the smoke, welcoming it into his lungs. He tried to ignore the fact that he _thought _he saw a figure that looked like Bakura at the doorway, and he tried to ignore the fact that he _thought _he heard Bakura's voice say, "I know, Ryo. I know," as Ryo spoke.

He passed out just before the flames started to consume the bed and his body.

He was attempting escape a third time, and this time it'd be successful.

* * *

It was over.

Bakura watched the house burn down. It was so _satisfying_, in a twisted way. He was the destroyer now. He was the destroyer of someone's life, instead of it being his life being destroyed. Ryo had let him do that.

And he was already starting to regret it.

Maybe he should follow Ryo's foolish advice—live with nothing but regrets. The problem was that everything that had happened with Ryo was already a lifetime's worth of regrets for Bakura.

There was no point now.

The game was over.

Bakura was the only player left, so it wouldn't be fun with or without anyone else.

He walked towards the burning house.

* * *

**(A/N:) I'd absolutely love to hear your thoughts.**


End file.
